This space has been remarkably silent over the past three weeks since my return over the atlantic pond. These weeks have been exhausting and full -- so full in fact, that I feel more physically worn out than I can ever recall feeling ever before. (No, I'm not sick, and I'm pretty sure of that. Just worn into the ground, but thanks for the concern
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. . .Who gives the rooster knowledge to discern between day and night.On the brighter side: The muezzin begin the call to morning prayers just before sunrise. Sounds and voices from many mosques blend over the hillside
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On Wednesday I took the day off from ICAHD and went to the Sulha peace festival. Five years ago, Sulha started in the North as a huge celebration hosted by a family in the family's olive orchards. It has since grown considerably and now meets in public parks. While this year I don't think there were many more than 1000 participants, there were
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A huge weekend -- Kol Zimrah and pot-luck at my flat were fantastic, and more importantly, yesterday was the first day of my major project here -- the ICAHD house rebuilding camp. Which means there's more going on than ever before and less time to write about it
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